


Bloodstream

by Ada_P_Rix (orphan_account)



Series: All My Sins... [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drinking, F/M, Post-Hogwarts, Sex, Smut, Veritaserum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24408262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Ada_P_Rix
Summary: COMPLETE:Sequel - 'I'm a Mess' is up now.New Tumblr account: Ada-P-RixAlcohol.Veritaserum.Unresolved sexual tension..... they all run through the Bloodstream ...**Hermione wants to get drunk and forget her work problems.Draco just happens to be in the very same Pub, with the very same idea.What could possibly go wrong?________________________________________________
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: All My Sins... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774669
Comments: 50
Kudos: 388





	1. Looking

**_“I feel the chemicals_ **  
**_Burn in my bloodstream_ **  
**_Fading out again_ **  
**_I feel the chemicals_ **  
**_Burn in my bloodstream.”_ **  
**_\- Ed Sheeran ‘Bloodstream’._ **

* * *

  
If you’d have told Hermione Granger yesterday that she’d be here, five years after leaving Hogwarts then she’d have called you a liar. 

If you’d have told Hermione Granger yesterday that she’d be here, intoxicated and in the current predicament that she was in, then she’d have laughed in your face and probably berated you afterwards. 

As it currently stood, however; she was a believer. 

The fog in her memory tried to trace back to the exact moment it had changed tonight.

Was it the fifth fire whiskey or ...? She couldn’t be sure. She just remembered being annoyed with her application for the further protection of Werewolves rights being rejected by the Wizongamet, and this had made her need a drink. 

She’d started off with Ginny and Fleur, graciously consoling her in The Leaky Cauldron and knocking back Green Giants – a slimy concoction of peppermint Rum and pineapple extract. That all stopped however when Fleur had decided she could stand her surroundings no longer and begged Ginny to go, sniffing the air and looking down her nose.

Hermione would have protested but Fleur had a point – the place was a dive. She only came to the establishment because the drinks were cheap and no one paid her any attention. She could be Hermione in that place ... not have to play her part of being the perfect Princess of the Golden Trio.

They’d said their goodbyes and Hermione had insisted she would finish her drink and head home – but she had no intention of actually following her words through. It was a Friday night; she had been professionally and socially rejected ... she was going to have a drink and forget herself until tomorrow. 

Tomorrow she could pick up her pieces.

As she had sat on a stool at the bar, she checked out her surroundings. Turning to her left and her right she could see that the bar was actually quite full, with the nooks and crannies being crowded as Witches and Wizards hid themselves away for private chats and drinks. Hermione snorted into her Green Giant as she watched a Witch to the right of her brazenly coming on to the a rather tall chap who was waiting to be served at the bar. 

Hermione would never be so brazen. It had taken her years just to pluck up the courage to kiss Ron. Walking up to someone and laying it on them seemed unfathomable. She only wished she could be that confident.

Ron.   
There was another twist in the tale. Yes, they were still dating. Yes, they were still squabbling and bickering ... no, she didn’t feel like he supported her when it came to her job and therefore, she hadn’t asked him out with her tonight as he just wouldn’t understand her dismay. 

He had always told her she was passionate. But didn’t understand about her passion for her job. They had never seen eye to eye on things like that, even in school. Hermione had compared it to his passion for Quidditch ... he had scoffed and told her it was not the same in the slightest.

Hermione knocked back the dregs at the bottom of her glass and tried to stand up graciously. She made her way to the bathroom and studied her flushed cheeks in the mirror. Alcohol always did make her cheeks blush. She patted her hair down and brought the ringlets over her shoulders. It was a good she was wearing no jacket due to rise in her body temperature because of the alcohol. She undid the top two buttons of her white blouse. 

After putting some water onto the back of her neck she stepped outside the bathroom again and made her way back to her barstool, fully intending to ungraciously down a few more drinks before heading onwards.

The stool was occupied. 

By Draco Malfoy. 

For the love of God. 

Hermione walked over; fists clenched defensively as she geared herself up for some sort of backlash to asking him to move from her chair. Although at the same time, if she was being rational then she knew that there would be no snide remarks or comments to be defensive about. Malfoy hadn’t spoken to her in anything other than a polite and civilised manner for years. 

She was aware it was just a natural defence mechanism she would always have against him after years of taunts and insults. 

She approached and coughed quietly, attempting to get his attention. He was too busy with the girl next to him, in low conversation and engaging her fully. Hermione didn’t even want the stool anymore; she just wanted her bag from under the stool so she could get out of his way. 

“Excuse me.” She croaked from behind him and she saw him turn around to her.

Malfoy frowned, obviously annoyed at being interrupted before he realised who she was and the frown disappeared. He nodded at her uncertainly but gave her a small smile of acceptance. “Granger? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The girl by his side was looking at her now too.

No. Scowling. She was most definitely scowling at her. 

Hermione ignored it. She felt the heat in her cheeks glow a little more as they were both observing her. “Really sorry to interrupt.” She started “You’re sat on my bag.” 

Malfoy looked down to where she was pointing. He then jumped off the school and apologised to her for sitting in her seat. Hermione argued that it was fine and that she was just leaving, but Malfoy told her he was better off standing anyway and pushed the seat towards her. 

Now what did she do? 

  
Refuse the seat and therefore make it look like she was offended by his offer and in turn offend him? Or did she sit down on the seat and therefore have to awkwardly sit by them as they carried on their conversation whilst she perched on the end like a third wheel? 

What a conundrum.

She sat down. Luckily the bartender caught her eye and hastily made up another Green Giant for her to inhale. At least the alcohol would make her feel less awkward if they stayed by her for longer than necessary. 

She heard the girl – Astoria, if she could remember her rightly, from school – ask Malfoy if he wanted to find a seat out of the way somewhere. She saw him look around out of the corner of her eye before telling his other half that there were no other spaces available. 

Hermione’s drink turned up. She saw Malfoy’s eyebrows raise in mockery as he turned to look at the drink being put in front of her. 

“Good God, Granger.” He said sarcastically. “Do you call that rat poison a drink?” 

Hermione looked up at him and glared. “It gets the job done.”

His other eyebrow raised to join his first. “Bad day at the office?”

She huffed. “I’m sure you’ve heard.” She lifted the drink to her lips. “Everyone else has.” 

She saw him frown. He shook his head and then picked up his own glass and Hermione saw Astoria eyeing Malfoy with contempt. It was always bad etiquette to talk to one girl whilst on a date with another, wasn’t it? 

Hermione nearly snorted.   
Whatever Astoria was thinking, she really needed to not think it. Even the thought of a girl getting jealous because Malfoy was talking to her – of all people – was highly laughable. Surely Astoria knew their past history? 

She fiddled with the handle on her glass as she heard the thrum of chatter in the pub. Tried to hone in on other conversations instead of the couple next to her. Astoria seemed to be saying something in a very quiet yet threatening voice. Malfoy wasn’t rising to her by the sounds of it. 

“It’s just Granger...” she heard him say quietly, almost a whisper. “You know it’s just polite-“

Hermione felt her blood boil.  
Of Course. She was just Granger, wasn’t she? Just the same dowdy, fuzzy haired, A-Sexual being from Hogwarts. Why should any girl find her a threat? Man didn’t look at her that way.

Except for Ron.   
Ron did. When he could be bothered. 

She heard a commotion next to her and Astoria was telling Malfoy she wanted to go. Malfoy was telling her he’d just ordered two more drinks and he didn’t want to waste them. Hermione heard Astoria huff and give Malfoy an unheard ultimatum.

The next thing she knew, Astoria was walking away from the bar, telling Malfoy she would see him at home, before giving Hermione a look that could kill and leaving through the creaking wooden doors.

Hermione frowned and chanced a glance at Malfoy. 

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as he faced the bar and shook his head. “Don’t ask.” Was all he said. 

The barman brought two fire whiskey’s over and sat the in front of Malfoy. Hermione was just finishing the last of her drink when she saw his hand push one of his glasses towards her place at the bar. 

He was giving her a drink. 

Hermione looked up at him as he looked towards her with a half-smile. He lifted his glass as if to make a toast, before saying “To happy relationships.” And taking a gulp of his drink. 

* * *

They sat in a strange, comfortable silence for about ten minutes. Hermione took sips of the drink he had offered her and it was causing a warm, tingly sensation to stick at the back of her throat. Fire whiskey wasn’t her normal choice of alcohol, but it wasn’t too bad. 

If she held her nose and tried not to Bork, that is. 

Malfoy had noticed out of the corner of his eye and started to chuckle. “What’s the matter, Granger? Can’t drink with the big boys?” his eyes were full of mirth. She had always noticed that about his eyes. They showed off his emotions so easily. She’d seen the hatred in them so much over the years that seeing anything else was just ... strange. 

This was all very strange. She needed to go now and – 

“How’s Weasley?” he asked her and stood turned towards her at the bar now, giving her his full attention. “Haven’t seen him or Potter around too much lately ... still attempting to become Auror’s I take it?”

Hermione nodded and took another sip from her glass. “They’re away a lot on training exercises so they write when they can.” 

She glanced at him momentarily as she saw him taking his black collard, duster coat off, slip a small tube from the pocket and place it in his pants pocket, before folding the coat until it was small enough to fit under her stool. He was now just in his 3-piece suit attire – grey waistcoat, tie and pants with a white shirt fitted to his frame. Shirt sleeves folded up to his forearms. He always did look immaculate and tonight was no acceptation. Even his hair wasn’t out of place – short back and sides but the top of his pushed to the side and backwards. It was rather Muggle-like, if she was honest.

She wanted to ask.

  
She wanted to know why Astoria had kicked up such a fuss and left. Malfoy was usually notorious for keeping his relationships under wraps and private. But it was obviously none of her business. 

  
“I barely see anyone while I’m down in Alchemy.” Malfoy continued, almost talking to her as if she were an old acquaintance. “Oddly, it’s not a place where one gets to socialise with many people.”

That was right, Draco Malfoy had gone into Alchemy as a hobby. Weirdly, she knew from school that he had a small interest in it. She’d heard on the grapevine that he had always been fairly competent with the subject at Hogwarts. It only made sense that Malfoy would do something he was good at. 

“I wouldn’t say the department for the Care of Magical Creatures is the social forte for conversation, either.” Hermione answered him with a laugh. “I think I am the youngest team member by about fifty years ...” 

He chuckled again, low in his throat. “well ... at least Weasley doesn’t need to worry about you being swept off your feet by another bloke.” 

Hermione nearly choked on her drink. “Unless I’m being swept off my feet by Gregory Passit’s zimmer-frame, I think it is highly unlikely.” She giggled to herself and finished off her drink, feeling the liquid burn her oesophagus as it travelled down.

She went to stand but Malfoy was ordering another two fire-whiskey’s before she could protest. Just one more ... she would go after just one more ...

“It’s still early Granger, we might as well drink to our sorrows together.” He told her as he downed his drink in two gulps and then beckoned for the barman to bring him the whole bottle instead. 

Shit. 

She’d planned on many things happening tonight; she hadn’t banked on getting drunk with Draco Malfoy. Never in a million years would she have banked on that.

And that was the unfathomable predicament she found herself in currently.

He took the bottle from the bartender and then looked back at her. “Come on Granger, there’s a little booth free in the corner over there.” He nodded in the direction behind her. “Let’s go and sink this bottle and talk about the old days.” 

She didn’t know what to do.  
Did she follow? Or did she leave? Tell him that although she appreciated the offer, that she had to get home ...

To what? 

There was nothing there except Crookshanks, who barely acknowledged her at the best of times.

And what was this anyway?   
His sudden interest in her life and wanting to speak to her like they were long lost pals ... what was he up to? 

That piqued her interest. What exactly was he up to? Was he after information or was this some sort of blackmail or bribe? 

He seemed to pick up on her vibe, because he smirked. “No animosity here, Granger.” He told her, holding up his hands defensively. “I’m just not ready to head home yet, and I don’t think you are, either.”

Well ... that was true. 

She found herself following him over to the quiet little booth near the back wall. She kept telling herself she would drink one more. One more and that was it, she’d say her polite goodbyes and go home. 

After one more. 

Just. One. More.


	2. Spinning

  
_**“So, tell me when it kicks in,** _   
_**Tell me when it kicks in.”** _   
_**\- Ed Sheeran ‘Bloodstream’.** _

* * *

  
In the dim light, his features were softer. Malfoy’s features used to be hard and pointy in school, now they were just chiselled and defined. Hermione had noticed a while back that he had filled out and matured, but to have it so vividly put in front of her like this was ... almost unsettling. 

Stupid alcohol, making her see things that she would never normally focus on. The whiskey must have been strong.

It was there though, and now she couldn’t take it back.

She drank the thought away with the alcohol, which still burned her throat. She looked over again to realise he was viewing her almost intently.

“You know ...” he started; his voice low over the hum of the noise in the bar. “When we were in school it used to drive me fucking mental how you used to always best me in practically every class.”

Hermione did snort this time, and then put her hand over her mouth in embarrassment. Was this Draco Malfoy, telling her that he was jealous of her? Why would he ever want to admit that?

“Every time I thought I’d managed to best you, you always seemed to just scrape past me ...” he was rolling his tumbler glass around on the table, watching the liquid swill to the edges. He seemed deep in thought. “I always thought there had to be something you weren’t good at ...” he looked up her with a smirk. “... but I think I have yet to be proven wrong.” 

Hermione smiled to herself. It had always felt good to surpass Malfoy. It was like a challenge. Like punishing him for the verbal torment he always seemed to put her through up until the last few years. It always made the triumph that much sweeter.

“I was always under the assumption that you had cheated, of course...” he finished off. “Because no one is that clever.” 

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I beg to differ.” 

He laughed, his eyes looking right at her. “Well you would, wouldn’t you?” then one of his eyebrows raised up. “And only Weasley can attest to one particular area that no one else would know that you excel in...”

It took her a few seconds to click on to what he was hinting at. Her mouth dropped open and her cheeks flushed. He was ... surely, he wasn’t intending to be so brazen as to mention – 

“Yes, I went there.” He answered her silent question as he rolled his eyes, laughed and took another gulp of his drink before going for the bottle and pouring more drink into their glasses. Hermione went to object but he merely tskd and continued to pour.

That was two more, not one.

“You always did think I was crass and vulgar.” He lifted his glass towards her again in a toast. “I should at least try to prove that you are, _as always_ , correct.” He sank his drink back again. 

Hermione folded her arms across her chest. “Wouldn’t the aim of the game be to try and prove me wrong instead?” 

“What’s the point when we both know that you are right?” he tilted his head to the side. “We are both aware that although I’ve grown up ... _as have you_ ...” Hermione saw his eyes leave hers briefly and flutter down her frame. Then they were right back on her. “...that I’m still the smug bastard I’ve always been.” 

Hermione let out small laugh and looked at him pointedly. “Smug bastard or not, I refuse to believe that even you haven’t managed to at least grow up mentally since school.” 

“How so?” he asked her, watching her as she went back to sipping on her fire-whiskey. “What is it about me that you seem to think has changed so drastically in five years?” 

Shit.

  
She was in hot water here. The Fire Whiskey was muddling her brain up and she found herself tied in knots. He’d twirled his words around her.

“Well-“ she started, feeling stupidly flustered and unable to grasp the right thing to say. ‘I mean-you’ve _grown_ and-Yes, well- perhaps it’s _maturity_ and – you’re not as mean so – oh, I _mean_ – you got _taller_ and – _oh, for the love of god_.” She felt so exasperated and he laughed at her, which didn’t help. 

“Dead convincing argument there, Granger.” He was tittering to himself. “I’m not a complete cunt anymore because I’ve grown?” He seemed genuinely humoured by her pathetic attempt to try and prove him wrong. 

He could tell she was warring with herself. She never lost. She always found a way to overcome and see things through. She’d find a way – 

And then it hit her. 

Malfoy had just gotten her to compliment him, without asking her directly to do it.

He really was a smug bastard. He looked really pleased himself. 

She glared and went to leave the table, but he stood up and the laughter died on his face. “I was just taking the piss. Granger.” He told her with a shrug. “I meant no offence. Stay and at least finish off your drink first.”

She let out a small huff and sat back down, against her better judgement. She kept overstepping the logical part of her brain tonight. The part that kept telling her that this was a stupid idea... she wasn't listening to it. Why?

Drinking with her mortal enemy. 

She brought the drink to her lips and took a few big gulps. This was definitely the one. After this one she was done. She could say she had proved her point and move on. 

“It burns, doesn’t it?” he asked her quietly as he studied her while she drank. “It burns for a while... but once you get past the pain, it starts to feel good.” 

Hermione wasn’t sure whether he was talking about the drink or ... _something else._

He was full of double meanings and suggestive phrases that tried to trip her up at every turn. She couldn’t keep up with him when she felt intoxicated. 

“It tastes like fire.” Hermione told him as she took another drink, making a point. 

“You’ve clearly never tasted _real_ fire then, Granger...” he told her as he cocked an eyebrow at her. “Because let me assure you, the _taste_ of it is just the beginning.” Hermione felt her stomach flip flop as he said the words, almost purred them. “...it’s all consuming and it’s _intoxicating_.” 

He was definitely not talking about the whiskey anymore. 

She sat there, rooted to the spot. Her mouth suddenly wanted to run away on her. She wanted to ask him more about the fire ... she suddenly wanted to tell him about her intimate experiences with Ron and compare them with how she should feel when – 

Her eyes widened and she clasped her hand over her mouth. 

“Veritaserum!’ she blurted out, suddenly remembering the little stopper bottle she had watched him pocket earlier. “You’ve put it in the Fire-whiskey...” 

She saw his eyes darken and another smirk ghosted his lips.

“Now that I have your attention, Granger...” he said in a low growl. “Let’s play a little game ...”


	3. Sinning

  
_**“Lord forgive me for the things I've done,** _   
_**I was never meant to hurt no one.** _   
_**I saw scars upon a broken-hearted lover.”** _   
_**\- Ed Sheeran ‘Bloodstream’.** _

* * *

  
She felt violated. 

He hadn’t asked permission; he’d just callously injected her with a truth potion and then what? Expected her to be okay with that? She would never be okay with that. 

“It’s not intended to harm you, Granger.” He told her voluntarily. “Just makes the night a little more ... interesting...” 

“You’ve violated my mind, Malfoy.” She snapped in warning. “How can that not be intentional harm?” 

“Because I’ve taken it, too.” He told her simply as he took a long sip of his drink. “Ask me anything and I’ll give you an honest answer. I wouldn’t do anything to you that I wouldn’t do to myself.”

He looked far too casual, sat there viewing her from across the table. Did he think that this was okay? Taking her right to her privacy away? Well, fuck him. If he wanted to play this game now then she was going to play dirty. She would make him well and truly regret spiking her drink with something so vulgar.

“Why did Astoria leave?” she asked him defiantly. 

His eyes widened slightly. He hadn’t expected her to ask that. “Because she doesn’t like me talking to other women when I’m with her.” He answered quickly.

Ah yes ... etiquette.

Hermione smirked to herself, but he caught it on her lips before she could hide it. 

“Why were you drinking alone earlier?” 

Bastard.

She glared at him. “I was drinking with Ginny and Fleur until they’d had enough and left me.” She felt compelled to say. Her hands tightened around her glass. 

She kept her eyes on his. “Why did you decide to stay and drink with me?” 

He sat perfectly still. She could see the muscles in his jaw tensing. “You ... intrigue me.” 

Her eyes widened. She had certainly not expected that answer. She could tell by the look on his face that he had tried his best to stop what he was trying to say. 

“Why didn’t you get Weasley over to come and drink with you instead of agreeing to shoot the breeze with me?” he was changing subject quickly. 

She sighed. “He’s away.” She started, willing the rest of the sentence not to escape from her mouth. “And I don’t really feel like seeing him at the minute anyway.” 

He was listening intently again. 

She sank back her drink again, coughing as it burned, but not as bad as previously. He was already pouring her another one whilst he filled his own. 

That’s three. 

_No more, Hermione_. 

“Why do you ask me questions about my friends?” she asked him, eyeing him suspiciously. “Always my friends ....” 

What did he want to know? What was he digging for? Why were her friends so important to his life?

He looked at her inquisitively. “Because it would make my cold, dead, Slytherin heart burst slightly to know that they are failing miserably at life, like me.” 

She frowned at him. He wasn’t failing. No one thought he was failing. Why did he think he was failing? 

“Why don’t you feel like seeing your Weasley, Granger?” he was almost sneering at her as he asked. She could see the boy from her childhood that she knew then in those eyes. “He not doing it for you anymore?”

She flushed and bit her lip, willing anything from escaping her lips. She narrowed her eyes as she looked into his grey ones. He stared back at her intently. 

Always intense. Never anything else.

She couldn’t hold it back anymore. She closed her eyes. “We bicker and we get on each other’s nerves,” she started but struggled to stop. “It’s a constant competition, and when we do make up we always find ways to annoy each other again and –“ her eyes widened. 

Don’t say it.

_Don’t make me say it..._

“-our sex life suffers because of it.’ 

She put her head in her hands and shrunk against the table, totally aghast. She couldn’t believe they had gotten to this point. That he’d probed her with questioning in the right way and then this had come out of her mouth. 

She breathed heavily and brought her head up defiantly. She could be just as dirty as him.

He wasn’t sneering at her anymore, though. He was certainly looking at her, but it was with ... understanding? 

  
“Why did you put the serum into the drink, Malfoy?” she asked him curiously now. He had nothing to gain from it if he had taken it too, did he? “What would you gain from it?” 

He smirked slightly. “Just the knowledge that your mind would be completely open to me in an honest conversation ... no holds barred, as it were. Like I said, you intrigue me.” 

He was studying her face again. “How do you feel about me putting it into the drink?”

She shifted on her chair and crossed her legs uncomfortably. Her forced answers seemed to come out of her more awkwardly than his did. His rolled off his tongue ... Hermione seemed to grapple with hers.

“Violated and angry, mostly.” She answered. But then – “But also ... curious, maybe.” she wanted to die of shame. 

He looked smug, like he already knew the answer before it left her mouth. Was she that easy to read? Perhaps if she had left then he would think differently. The fact that she stayed definitely showed that she was curious. 

And she was, really.

  
Because why her? Why did he want to do this with her? Now? 

  
If she pressed hard enough, she knew she could find out. 

She set hers in a straight line now. “How do I intrigue you, Malfoy?” Her back was straight and as she brought the whiskey to her lips defiantly, she kept her eyes on him as the ends of his lips curled and she saw him battling with himself internally, just as she had done.

This was the first time she had seen his demeanour change. His guard slipped a little and when his hands went to his face and then he rubbed one through his hair, her mouth went a little dry. He was trying to keep his answer from tumbling out.

_“Jesus, Granger ._..” his grey eyes looked at her and she found that they were pleading with her a little. Like she had asked the wrong question and he hadn’t prepared himself for it. “I ... _shit_ ...” 

Oh, this was dangerous.   
So, _so dangerous_. 

His voice started small and hesitant as he swallowed hard. “When I was younger, you were the thing I pitted myself against. You were the one thing I measured my knowledge and education on. If I could keep up with you then I knew I was on track.” He was itching his head, trying not to meet her eyes.

“I hated you. I hated everything about you and your little mates ...I thought if I could keep you distracted by being a condescending little bastard then maybe your marks would slip. It never worked though.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. As if something so trivial would drop her marks. She knew he was competitive, but to try and keep up with her just to prove a point to himself? It was so senseless.

He finally looked up at her. “And then that bloody Yule Ball happened.”

She frowned slightly, not quite catching on. He was gripping his glass now, the words he didn’t want to tell her tormenting his mind.

“That bloody dress ...I liked your hair like that.” His eyes were closed and she let his confession wash over her.

Her.

The Yule Ball.

Her Periwinkle dress and her hair curled to the side, down her shoulders and back. 

“I’ve done a lot of unsavoury things in my time, Granger.” He said in a quiet voice as he lifted the glass to his lips. “But I ‘ve never set out to hurt anyone ... not really.” He glanced at her over the rim of the glass. “Seeing you in that dress made my gut wrench momentarily for some of the nasty shit I had said to you.” 

Hermione breathed low. She hadn’t realised she’d been holding it. She felt like her world was suddenly being turned upside down.  
Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Did he ... had he ... in the past ...? 

“But ...” she started; the confusion apparent in her voice. “You ... you told Astoria just before that it was only me ... that ‘ _It’s only Granger'.._. that you were just ' _being polite_ ' ...” She was saying it more to herself than to him, trying to make sense of it all.

He looked her dead in the eye.

  
“I lied.”


	4. Coloured Crimson

_**“I've been looking for a lover,** _  
_**Thought I'd find her in a bottle.** _  
_**God, make me another one,** _  
_**I'll be feeling this tomorrow.”** _  
_**-Ed Sheeran ‘Bloodstream’.** _

* * *

  
What exactly was he admitting to, here? 

Was he telling her that he found her attractive at some point during The Yule Ball? 

_He couldn’t find an insult to throw at me..._

A vision of a younger Draco Malfoy was looking at her in her minds eye as she entered the Great Hall on the arm of Viktor Krum...Pansy Parkinson on his arm, and they were looking ... _looking_ ... his eyes were looking right at her. _Into her._

Hermione blinked and came back to the present. Those same eyes, older and slightly wiser now were still _looking_ ... _into her._

Had it been since The Yule Ball? Or had it died the day after when she was no longer in _that dress_? When she no longer had _that hair?_

Did she even dare to ask the question? She didn’t know if she wanted to know the answer or not ... it would all get far too messy. 

_Ron_.

Here she was, engaging with Malfoy and have him tell her that he may have harboured a little crush on her since 4th year ... meanwhile, she’d not even spared a thought for her boyfriend.

“I know you want to ask, Granger.” He said almost warningly, his face a mixture of shame and pain. “But trust me ... you don’t want to go there.” 

She did. 

But she was scared of what he would admit to her. Because then a subconscious part of her would embed that information and she would more than likely bring that out to play another day, when she was alone and in her right mind. 

“How much do you hate me, Granger?” he was so intense. Had he always been this intense? His body language was literally giving nothing away. He was giving her so many mixed signals, he was all over the place. 

Hermione swallowed and bit her lip. She looked up at his hesitantly and found him watching her mouth. Since when did Draco Malfoy watch her mouth? 

_All those times in 5th year when you’d answer a question and he would turn around to look at you..._

Oh. 

How had she never seen that before?

_You weren’t looking ..._

So, it was a _crush_ that lasted a little longer than the Yule Ball, then ...

“Hate is a very strong word, Malfoy.” She told him matter of factly. “I can’t say I’ve liked you all that much at times, but I’ve never hated you.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re quite obviously a bigger person than me then, love.” She watched as he slackened his tie, took it off and undone the top two buttons of his shirt. 

Was it getting hot in there? She felt stuffy all of a sudden.

He cradled his drink again and she found herself glancing at his forearms, despite the protest from her brain telling her that she shouldn’t. 

_Built_.

Eugh. Terrible, stupid thoughts.

_Truthful thoughts ._..

Much better in than out at the minute, though. Thank heavens for small mercies. 

He had never been unattractive. He was elegant and lean. He had always been tall and suited his frame. Hermione had always noticed that although his personality was ugly at times, his physical appearance certainly had not been. 

God, she hated this bloody serum!

“Did you regret any of the things you did or said to me and my friends?” she just couldn’t help herself. It was coming out in word vomit and the alcohol certainly wasn’t helping. Was it making her more confident? She felt like it did. 

She watched him shift in his seat and he reached his neck with one hand to rub it, trying his best to figure out how to word his answer. “ _Then_? Not so much.” He answered her without meeting her eyes. “I’m not looking for redemption for the things I’ve done in the past, Granger. I am who I am.” 

Hermione nodded silently, then closed her eyes as she felt woozy from the alcohol. 

“ _Now_ , though ...” came his voice again, and he sounded resolute. “Now, I _almost_ wish I could take some of them back.” Her eyes opened and looked at him. “Not your _friends_ , Granger. I really couldn’t give a shit about what they think ... but some of the things I said to you –“

“Were _mean_ –“ she started defensively.

“-were _deflective_.” He retorted in a matter of fact tone. He absentmindedly topped their drinks up again. Hermione was sure if she kept on drinking then she might not see tomorrow. “Quite clearly my coping mechanism with my little - _infatuation_ \- with you was to insult you and call you names... the old cliché school yard hair pulling tactics.” 

How had she never seen it that way before?

**_Infatuation_** .... 

_Because he was a right bastard to you and treated you awfully. You were too busy thinking he was a dickhead instead of wondering why he was so mean._

_But ... **infatuation** ..._

That word left her feeling all kinds of mixed emotions all at once.

His plan had obviously worked in spectacular fashion.

He really was clever.

Clever and _slightly_ attractive...

_No. Don’t go there._

_Ron_. 

_Ron and Astoria._

She shook her head. They both had partners of significance. Having conversations like this now would do neither of them any good.

_It’s not like you can help it ... not with the serum and the alcohol and the way he keeps looking at you ..._

“What are you thinking about now, Granger?” she heard him sigh, like he knew the cogs were turning in her head.

Dear Lord, she didn’t need for any of her current thoughts to spill from her mind. Far too complicated...

She bit her lip again and he looked up at her and stiffened his jaw as he watched her. 

“Please _don’t_ do that.” His tone was flat but his eyes were honed in on her bottom lip, caught between her teeth. 

She let go of her lip and blushed. He let out a long breath that he had been holding and his face visibly relaxed. It looked like he had been struggling to control something inside of himself.

Hermione took a deep breath and felt compelled to answer his question. She was dreading the fall out. “I was thinking that we have partners who would not be happy to know we were stowed away in a dark corner of a pub, drunk on alcohol and truth serum and –“ _don’t ... please, please don’t make me say it –_

“- _and_ what?” he asked her, leaning into the table and turning his head to the side intently, almost hanging off her every word. 

“I- oh, god-erm.. _this_ -“ she tried so hard to fight it, she started to stutter. She could kill him for doing this to her right now. She closed her eyes tight and wished herself to be anywhere but there, just then. “-this unresolved _sexual tension_.”

Her eyes were still closed. He was silent across from her but she could tell her was looking right at her. She had never felt so ashamed. The realisation had hit her like a bolt of lightning and it felt like a thousand feelings had all hit her at once.

It had always been there and she had never seen it.

Never _felt_ it. 

Because the mere thought of it was absurd, wasn’t it? That the mean words and actions towards each other had always been just that little bit ... _more_? 

_**More**_. 

Hermione shuddered and then bravely opened up her eyes and locked them with his. 

He was boiling over. She had him on the edge of something, but she wasn’t sure what. He was looking at her like he was trying to figure out what he needed to say next to drive his point home. Like he needed to make her realise their situation. 

“Alcohol.” He said finally, not taking his eyes off of her. “Alcohol, Veritaserum and sexual tension ... they all enter the _bloodstream_.” 

Hermione swallowed, feeling her body react to his words against her will. She felt her nipples betray her and they peaked against the cup of her bra, causing her to shiver slightly.

“They might dull in time, Granger ...” his jaw was clenched again. “But once it’s in there, it doesn’t leave, not really ... just _burns_ away at you, until you start to _like_ it ... until you get your next _hit_.” 

His voice was so low it was practically a growl. 

Hermione just couldn't help herself.

_Now_.

She needed to ask now. 

“You said I wouldn’t want to know _but_ -“ she stuttered again, aware that she sounded as nervous as she felt. She looked down at the table, reasoning that this would come out better if she didn’t meet his eyes. “- has it been like this for you since _4th_ year? Since –“ 

She heard him hiss out a breath and she looked up at him then, realising it was probably embarrassing for him, but she needed to know. “ _Was_ it? ... _is_ it? _Still_?”

His head was in his hands again and he was leaning his elbows on the table, his body wound tightly like a coiled spring. 

She heard him groan low, letting out a breath before finally looking up at her with a manner of different emotions on his face. He looked pained. She was biting her lip again and she hadn’t even realised it. He was trying so hard to hold it all back. 

“It was just a thought in 4th year.” He told her finally, sitting back now against the cushion of the chair he was on and resting his head back and closing his eyes, like he was residing himself to his fate. “It got ... stronger, after that. Seeing you everywhere. You were _everywhere_...” 

Hermione crossed her legs and drank her drink down. This was too tense. It was like she was being let into a forbidden memory. Something she had no right to have access to. 

"By the time Fifth and Sixth year came around, you were like part of my daily routine ... one thought of you sent my mind fucking whirling. You distracted me ... you've always been a distraction..."

Hermione sucked in a breath.

“I remember the first dream I had.” He carried on, still not looking at her. “You told me you needed help with an Arithmancy question and I was helping you in Hogwarts Library, and then –“ 

_Oh, Dear Lord ..._

“- You kissed me. I remember your tongue sliding into my mouth and I grabbed your hair. You didn’t resist when I lifted you up onto the table and your skirt rode up –“ 

Hermione’s breath hitched. She really shouldn’t be listening to this ... but his words ... they had her tied up in knots again.

“- You pulled me towards you and I ended up right between your thighs, feeling everything and when you started moaning into my mouth and grinding against me, I just fucking lost it. I’ve thought about you like that a lot, over and over and in lots of different ways.” 

He must have felt her staring at him. He must have seen the flushed colour of her when he opened his eyes. He must have seen something there in hers that she had been trying to hide, because his eyes darkened and that ghost of a smile came back to play on his lips. 

  
“What are you thinking about right now, Granger?” He asked her in a low voice, practically growling. He sounded ... _hungry_. 

  
She squeezed her eyes tight and her thighs squeezed tighter, willing away the hot ache that had started there when he started talking.

Oh, she was in _so_ much fucking trouble.


	5. Burn

  
_**“All the voices in my mind,** _   
_**Calling out across the line.** _   
_**All the voices in my mind,** _   
_**Calling out across the line.”** _   
_**\- Ed Sheeran ‘Bloodstream.’** _

* * *

_Say it ..._

No, she couldn’t. She couldn’t do it. She willed herself not to do it. She’d bite her tongue if she had to ... 

_He needs an answer. Tell him. Tell him now._

She couldn’t fight the urge; it was so strong. She clenched her body, mortified by what was about to come out of her mouth now. 

“About what it would feel like if you –“ eyes closed again, she bit her lip and snuck her tongue out to lick along it momentarily, still squeezing her thighs together and willing the sudden images of Malfoy between her legs away. “if you were to-“

“ _Fuck_ , Granger...” she heard him growl. “If you bite that lip one more time, I’m going to lose it.” 

She let out a feint mewl. This was not supposed to be happening. This was not how her night was supposed to go. She was not supposed to be doing this and feeling this and ... 

_... and wanting this..._

“How it would feel if you were between my thighs.” She answered finally, between clenched teeth. 

She heard him take a breath. She heard him moving around on his chair and taking a drink of his Fire-Whiskey. She heard him running his hands through his hair and over his face but she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. If she did, she knew she would be lost in this. 

This. 

All of it. 

As maddening and surreal it was, she could feel herself giving in. Slowly, she opened her eyes. 

He was expressionless. He looked composed and seemed to be looking at her with a placid look in his eyes. His demeanour must have changed in an instant, the almost frantic and frustrated sounds she could hear from seconds ago could attest to that.

He watched her for a minute, drumming his fingers on the table with one hand and drinking from his whiskey glass with the other, but always watching her. 

It was almost unnerving. She could practically feel the heat he was giving off. It was like he was weighing her up. She needed to break the tension. 

_Now...ask him now._

“What are you thinking right now, Malfoy?” she asked him quietly and already dreading the answer. She couldn’t take the silence anymore.

  
She saw his mask slip away momentarily, that knowing twitch in his jaw starting again and a flash of something sparked in his eyes. 

He was dangerous. 

She was only stoking his fire. 

“I was thinking about how I’d like you to tell me in more detail about what I’d be doing if I ever got between those thighs of yours...” 

This was unbareable. The ache between her legs rushed through her like a jolt of electricity, and yet as she looked at him, he appeared so unaffected. How could he make her ... those were so private ... it was never something she would even share with Ron, never mind – 

_**Ron**_ ... 

_Oh, Ron_ ... 

What was she thinking? 

_Ron has never made you feel like this ..._

And Astoria? 

_Obviously something missing there if he’s been thinking about you ...._

Oh, this was such bad news. _Bad_ , _bad_ news.

_Tell him_ ... 

That familiar pull, making her want to blurt everything out and lay herself bare. She hated this. But this time, she would face him with it. If he could look unaffected then so could she. Make him think he hadn’t gotten the better of her. Make him think she wasn’t breaking down her own defences for him. 

Breaking them down for Draco Malfoy. 

She straightened her shoulders, leaned back in her chair casually and looked him dead in the eye as she opened her mouth to speak. 

“I was thinking...” she started, feeling her heartbeat hammering against her chest. “About whether you would take your time with me or –“ she paused, swallowing when she saw him clench his fist slightly from across the table. “- You’d want it rougher than that?” 

His eyebrow raised but no other expression appeared as she looked at him. She knew she’d asked him a question within her question, so she knew he would need to answer her.

He waited a pulse before answering in a very low, almost threatening tone. “Hard and rough that first time ... waited too long to take my sweet time with you.” He heard her breath hitch. “But after that ...I’d spend hours working on you.” He let a small smirk creep onto her lips. “Tell me Granger, do you like it rough?” 

Her mouth was dry. She was sitting there taking him in. She had to admit that when he was looking at her from across the way that he really was something to behold. Those forearms ... the things he could do to her with those. His broad shoulders and back ... her petite frame would fit – 

_Oh, no_ ... 

“I’ve never had that sort experience.” She heard herself answer him, and she felt mortified as the words left her mouth. 

His jaw clenched tight and she swore she saw his eyes almost roll back into his head. What did that mean? 

It had never been that way with her and Ron.

Tender? _Yes_ ... loving? _Yes_ ... boring? _Admittedly, at times ..._

But never the rough and passionate sex she had heard others speak about. Her and Ron just weren’t built for each other in ... that way. 

_Is that true passion though?_

Has Ron ever made you feel half the things that Malfoy has in the last few hours you’ve been with him? Has Ron ever looked at you like he wants to rip your clothes off and bend you over a pub table before?

  
_“Weasley doesn’t fucking deserve you._..” she heard him mutter in a low breath. 

She didn’t want to think about that. 

Instead she decided to focus on the embers burning in his eyes. Seeing him looking at her like he wanted to hold her down and fuck her until she was screaming for him.

“Is –“ she was hesitant, but she wanted to get this out of him. Wanted to see what would be on his mind ... in his fantasies. She wanted to see if he was as dirty and depraved as she thought he might just be.

_Hoped_...

_Hoped_ he might just be.

“-Is that what you want to do to me? _Fuck_ me hard?” oh god, she’d said it. 

She watched him take a deep breath, look up to the ceiling and clench his fists again. Warring with himself as to word what he wanted to say. Her words had affected him though, because his eyes were dark with want when he looked back at her.

Maybe he thought she couldn’t take it? She was made of stronger stuff than that.

“The things I would do to you....” He started finally, looking over at her and licking his lips while raking his eyes down her body, settling on her breasts. “That blouse would lose its buttons fast and that tight arse of yours would be straddling my lap if we were alone right now.” 

She wasn’t disappointed. She sucked in a breath. 

“I remember being on the desk next to you in Potions in 5th year ...” he brought his hand up to his chin and trained his thumb over his lip absent mindedly as he spoke. “All I could smell the whole lesson was Jasmine and Sweet pea ...” he smirked at her. “I never forgot the way you smelled ...” 

Hermione frowned for a minute before two particular things flashed through her mind; 

_**Amortentia**_ ...

_6th year_...

The first flash was Hermione smelling spearmint ... she loved spearmint ... _Malfoy_ was nearly always sucking on a mint ... 

The second was her walking past Malfoy’s cauldron in that same lesson ... his potion oddly smelling like _her_ shampoo ... 

_Oh, God ... it had been there all the time ..._

She heard Malfoy’s voice again, bringing her back into the present. 

“You smell like that right now love, and it’s _fucking_ intoxicating.” She shivered at the low tone of his voice 

“’I’ve thought about you in every different scenario, in every different position, Granger.” He was deadly serious. “And the thought of never being able to have you is an ache that I can’t get rid of.” 

_Wow_ ... he really did – _wow_. 

Her heart was beating so fast from his revelation. From the thought that he wanted her like this. He had always wanted her like this. 

In such a passionate and animalistic way. 

He looked like he was dying inside as he spilled his secrets out to her. Like it was both a blessing and a curse that he was finally able to tell her. 

She was about to curse him again, but she needed to know ... for her own curiosity. 

“How-“ god, she hated herself. She squeezed her glass tighter and looked his dead in the eye. “How do you feel about me, Malfoy?” 

He stared at her curiously, realising that the way she had worded her question meant that she wasn’t asking him what he wanted to do to her ... but why he wanted to do it in the first place. He realised she was asking him to explain his feelings for her. 

He took a heavy breath and leaned forward, leaning on those impressive forearms on the table again. He was still looking directly into her eyes. 

“I suppose you’d like it if I told you that I’ve thought about fucking you for years?” he brought his drink to his lips. “It’s true, of course, but it’s also more than that, Granger.”

Hermione cocked her head, listening intently. 

_More_ ...

“What you and I have between us is something that most people can only crave to feel in their sad, depressing little lifetimes.” The shadows on his face from the lamp light made him look dangerous. “We have the hate and the envy and the rivalry and the competitive nature between us.” His voice was hard. “We have the stolen glances and the smell of each other and the hurt and the pain of each other’s actions...” His eyes sere blazing. “We have the –“

“- _tension_...” Hermione finished for him, a shiver of truth running through her. She knew exactly what he was saying now, she could feel it in the air. It was so thick with it. 

He gave her a small smile, knowing he was finally making her see and understand it. “It’s in our bloodstream, love.” He leaned in even closer, looking directly in her eyes. “It will always be in our bloodstream.” 

She was entranced. Everything he had said just seemed to ... make sense. Her mind was whirling. She couldn’t keep up. 

“So, to answer your question, _Granger_ ...” His tone was low again. “I feel so many different things about you that I can’t pick just the one emotion out...” then he smirked. “But I do know that if you don’t let me kiss you tonight then I don’t think I could _fucking_ handle it.”

She sucked in a breath. They were in _very_ dangerous territory. 


	6. Chemicals

_**“I got sinning on my mind,** _  
_**Sipping on red wine.** _  
_**I've been sitting here for ages...”** _  
_**-Ed Sheeran ‘Bloodstream’.** _

* * *

  
_“But I do know that if you don’t let me kiss you tonight then I don’t think I could fucking handle it.”_

  
He hadn’t meant to say it ...

  
She could tell from his body language that of all the things he had said to her tonight that that particular revelation had been hard for him to part with it. The smirk he wore as he said the words had been worn to mask the utter mortification of admitting that he felt so compelled by her that he wanted to kiss her ...

What did she do? Did she gloss over it? Did she forget it and spare him the embarrassment?

Could she pretend she hadn’t been listening? Her heartbeat was so loud in her ears and her mind was racing at a million miles a minute.

_You need to say something ..._

Oh god, what could she possibly say to defuse the tension...

Ask him another question before he asks you – 

“What would you do if I kissed you, Granger?” 

Butterflies felt like they were breaking through her stomach walls. She felt hot and clammy and the throb between her legs was getting stronger. She couldn’t control it with a squeeze of her thighs anymore. 

She was struck by the need to give him every detail and yet nothing at the same time. This conversation had already gone so far and so many revelations had been discovered ... if she unearthed this particular piece of information then there really was no going back. 

He would be part of her equation. 

He always has been there ... always been part of the background, watching ... waiting ... a shadow in the background of her life. 

Always there but never quite with her. 

Hermione found that she was still looking into his eyes. Trying to work out what he was expecting her to answer with. How would he react when the words left her mouth? He looked like he was holding onto something internally in his mind ... was it ... was he ...?

Hermione’s heart splintered. 

_Hope_. 

He was holding onto hope. 

She took a shaky breath. “It would be _wrong_.” She told him as she saw a fire die in his eyes.

She watched him move as if to lift himself from his seat; his emotions beyond his control as his soul had been bared and he was having it thrown back in his face. 

“ _But_ –“ she faltered and watched him stop, looming over her in the small space of the secluded booth. She looked up at him with wide eyes, knowing that whatever she said now was the be all and end all of this. “- I would _let_ you.” 

_There_. That was it. What it all boiled down to. 

She had caved. She had accepted and she had understood now what this thing was between them. What it had always been, whether either of them had fully intended for it to suddenly flourish like this. 

It was always meant to be this way between them. There was nothing that could have stopped their paths from crossing like this. 

The _chemistry_ had always been there. 

_Burning_ away.

She saw him swallow. His eyes were looking at her from every angle, assessing how to handle this new trail of conversation and which direction he thought it was heading in. 

He closed his eyes. “ _Fuck_...” he came towards her and she realised he was going to sit next to her on her side of the booth.

She shuffled along quickly in case he miss-timed himself and sat on top of her. “I wasn’t expecting that.” He told her as he leaned against the table again, his head in his hands. 

He really was at war with himself. 

Hermione felt embarrassed and anxious, of course. But if felt like Malfoy was really struggling with controlling his emotions and trying so hard to hide things that he didnt want to tumble out of his mouth unwillingly. 

He glanced over at her and his eyes darkened again. They were so close now that she could smell him ... he smelled like _sandalwood_ and a masculine, _musky_ aroma that filled up her own senses and made her feel light headed. She could see the blonde stubble on his chin and the bright colour of his eyes and, _oh god_ ... 

He was _beautiful_. 

She glanced down at his large forearm next to hers and momentarily felt like reaching out to touch it. Touch him and see what he would do. 

She’d admitted it. She’d told him she would let him kiss her. She’d told him she would accept it if he made a move. Because she would, she felt like she needed it now. She needed to feel it like he did.

All consuming. 

His eyes never left her, searching her properly without saying a word. 

And then another smirk rose to his lips. A devilish look in his eyes. Something telling her that she was about to be burned by a raging inferno. 

  
“Why?” He asked her quietly, studying the features of her face and seemingly unaffected by the sudden close proximity to each other. “Why would you let me kiss you?”

Hermione felt like she couldn’t breathe. This was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She’d never felt this amount of tension and raw honesty between herself and another person before. Opening up to him was like shedding her skin. 

She steadied her breathing watched his face as she spoke. “Because I want to know what it feels like to –“ 

He cocked an eyebrow at her reluctance to complete her sentence and gave her a small grin, almost as if to tell her he knew how she was feeling about spilling her thoughts because he was feeling the exact same way.

She couldn’t help it. 

She _giggled_. 

Maybe it was the drink or the moment or the thought process or even just the surreal conversation that they were having, but she let the small laugh escape her lips before she had time to stop it. 

“- because I want to know what it feels like to let that many emotions smother me all at once ....” she managed to finish, suddenly feeling quite shy. 

Malfoy sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “You wouldn’t, believe me...” he looked back down at her. “It burns ...” his eyes were bright as looked at her lips momentarily. “But then, I couldn’t kiss you, not really.” 

He was still looking at her lips, battling with himself.

She frowned.

“Why?” she mirrored his earlier question and avoided the stinging feeling that his admission at left on her and he was looking at her with a small, victorious smile. “You said-“

“You don’t want me to, Granger...” he told her matter of factly, still studying her. Still flitting his eyes between her own and her lips. “You’d let me ... but you don’t want it.” 

Gut sinking. 

Yes, she had said that, hadn’t she? 

She’d said _let_ instead of _want_ ... verbally keeping him at arm’s length ...

Did she want him to? Did she really want him to cross that line for her? Did she really want those lines blurred now? 

**Ron**. 

**Astoria**. 

Both getting lost in the embers of a fire that was currently starting to enflame around the both of them. They would be burned from the inside out of they dared to continue. 

_It burns_ ... 

_It burns in your bloodstream_... 

And it _did_. She could feel it starting. If this was anything like how Malfoy had been feeling then she felt sure that he had been suffocating on those feelings for years. Trying to defuse and dampen them, unable to let them loose. 

His self-control must have been impenetrable. There was no way that someone could feel so many feelings for so long and have nowhere to put them, to extinguish them ... 

_Masochist_...

Maybe she was. Right now, she wouldn’t blame him for it.

His eyes never left her lips. She could feel the heavy stare from his bright eyes and she knew that one small move from either of them would have their bodies connecting...and it would burn them both. 

“ _Granger_ ...” he started, his voice rumbling out of his chest. His body so close to hers, his eyes pouring into her. “Do _you_ want to kiss _me_?” 

He was sneaky. 

He knew how to work a situation. He knew how to come out on top and win. He really was one of the best competitors she had ever found herself up against. He was working the situation to his advantage, just like she had before.

Her eyes darted between his face and his lips. Why did he seem so close? Had he moved? She could practically feel his breath on her face. He was waiting so patiently for an answer that she knew she really didn’t want to give him ... 

She closed her eyes.

“It’s _wrong_ -“ she felt his arm brush against hers and he was getting closer now. “We shouldn’t _want_ -“ she heard him exhale a breath and noticed that his face must have been somewhere really close to her ear. She put her hands into fists. “If we did _this_ -“ she felt a fingertips brush her jawline. 

Her eyes snapped open and she met his hungry ones. 

His mouth was a breath away from hers, his nose was grazing against her small one. His eyes were asking her to do it. Asking her to give in and let go and burn with him among the flames they had created together. 

She bit her lip.

His eyes were drawn there automatically.

She saw the fire dance in them. 

“I told you _not_ to bite your lip, Granger.” He swallowed and continued to stare at her lips territorially. “You have no _fucking_ idea how close that brings me to snapping.” 

_Maybe_ ... 

Maybe she could get that fire, after all.

She didn’t look away from him. She didn’t flinch. She kept their body proximity close as she kept her teeth on her bottom lip and looked at him through hooded eyes. 

  
He knew.

He knew exactly what she was doing.

He groaned and used the hand still on her jawline to draw her face closer to his. Their lips were a breath away from touching. She could see his tongue sneak out to wet his lips and his eyes were half hooded as he continued to stare down at her own. They were both _so close_ ... 

_**Ron**_.

_**Astoria**_. 

A pang shot through her, almost wounding her. Hermione shot backwards, out of his grasp and Malfoy must have understood why she had done it, because he didn’t ask.

_**Panic**_. 

What was _she_ doing? What had _she_ done? What were _they_ thinking?

She stood and pushed past him. Malfoy made no attempt to stop her, staring at the spot in front of him and looking – _wounded_?

A flurry of emotions erupted from her all at once and she did the only thing she knew she could do in that moment to stop herself from diving head first into a mess of emotional baggage.

She ran from them all.

Ran away from everything that she had felt and remembered. Ran away from the revelations and the wanting and the chemicals.

She ran from _him_.

She ran from the _truth_.


	7. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not condone cheating ...
> 
> But for the purpose of the story, and the purpose of the characters ...

  
_**“So, tell me when it kicks in.** _  
_**And I saw scars upon her,** _  
_**Tell me when it kicks in.** _  
_**Broken-hearted.”** _  
_**\- Ed Sheeran ‘Bloodstream.** _

* * *

  
She didn’t get far. His stride was much bigger than hers and his determined steps seemed catch up with her in seconds. She had barely made it out of the pub and just to the little alley way down the side of it before he caught her shoulder and turned her around. 

She put a hand up to stop him, scared that he might convince her into staying and she wouldn’t be able to say no. 

Instead, he stopped in front of her and held her bag and blazer coat out towards her. She’d left them under the booth table that they had been sitting at... and here she was foolishly thinking he had been running after her. 

She took her things from him with a curt not, not wanting to look up at him through embarrassment. She felt a slight chill go through her as the chilly November wind blew against her skin. She noticed she could see her breath when she breathed out, but oddly she didn’t feel as cold as she should have.

Alcohol in your bloodstream ...

“I’m not sorry.” She heard him say in a serious tone. She looked at him then.

She instantly regretted it. Looking up at him from the candlelit street lamps of the little street that the pub occupied. Wearing his black duster coat and his top buttons undone from earlier. His eyes were crystal clear and he looked like he was trying to control his emotions. 

He could obviously see the look of confusion on her face as he continued. “I don’t regret anything that I’ve said tonight or anything that you’ve shared with me.” Her eyes widened. “I’m a selfish man, Granger. Always have been, always will be. I didn’t run into you here tonight intentionally but when I spotted you through the pub window-“

_Pre-empted ... he saw her there before he had even sat in her seat ..._

“-I’d not seen you in five years and catching you there just brought everything back. I just –“ he sighed heavily, obviously hating himself for his own betrayal. “- I just wanted a bit of you for myself... just _mine_. Just for _now_.” 

He bowed his head and suddenly looked sheepish. He wanted a bit of her, just for himself ... _just for now_ ... 

The small sentiment struck a chord with her. She didn’t know whether it was the slight edge of vulnerability or the revelations of the night in total that did it, but she started to let her guard back down again. 

“The veritaserum wasn’t intended to be used ... I was bringing home a sample to study a stronger compound of chemicals to administer stronger effects but,” ... He gave her a small smile. “I just didn’t manage to get that far.” 

Hermione nodded her head and then smiled down at her shoes. “So, you decided it would be a good idea to lace our drinks with it instead and see where the night takes us?”.

The wind blew a little chillier and as Hermione looked up at Malfoy, she saw the top of his hair being wisped about slightly, falling over his eyes. 

“I didn’t think it would lead us here, Granger ...” he stepped towards her a little and she held her breath. She couldn’t keep doing this with him. He couldn’t keep doing this to her. “...I didn’t think we’d end up like _this_.” 

She bit her lip, anxiety of his next move causing through her. 

His jaw clenched again as he watched her. 

_Oh, shit ... don’t_ ... 

“Where?” she asked quietly, watching him watch her as she bit her bottom lip between her teeth and licked it for a second, absentmindedly. 

He was fast. 

Without warning she suddenly found herself backed into the dark, cool Alleyway and out of the way of prying eyes. Her back hit the wall and his arms were on either side of her now, his face so threateningly close to hers. 

“...so close to the edge.” He finished, looking keep into her eyes and then back to her mouth, making her weak at the knees. 

He let out a small groan on a breath and brought his head to her shoulder, sounding like he was trying to gain some composure.

“What did I tell you about biting that lip of yours, Granger?” he asked through a muffled sentence, his mouth near the junction between her neck and shoulder. “ _Stop_ yourself or I’ll bite it for you.”

The vibrations of his words against her flesh made her skin tingle. She let out a small breath and involuntarily lifted her chin so her head fell back against the wall, unwittingly opening her throat up to him. 

He stood still for a minute, his hands still braced against the wall and his body so close to hers but not quite touching. He knew her head was back ... He knew his breath was causing delicious heat against her neck ... he knew she would do absolutely nothing to stop him in that moment. 

“Tell me what you want, love.” He whispered in a low growl, his lips feathering across her collarbone. She bit back a moan at the feeling but kept herself as still as she could.

He was going to slowly drive her insane. 

He brought his lips up against her ear. “Tell me what you want and you can have it.” She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips that time and she opened her eyes. His grey ones were looking right into her, willing her to tell him what he wanted to hear. 

Hermione resigned herself in that moment.

Not the thought of Ron, and not even Astoria could persuade her to change her mind the second she knew the answer she needed to spill from her lips. 

  
She didn’t answer him verbally. 

Instead, her lips came the small distance between then gingerly and rested against his. She would let him have this. Let him have the knowledge that she _wanted_ to kiss him, not _let_ him kiss her. 

It was a feather light touch and she felt Malfoy move away, almost as a jerk reaction. Then he looked in her eyes and watched her as she breathed deeply; preparing herself for the onslaught to come. 

He wasted no time after that. 

His lips crashed down onto hers in hot fury, his hands working their way into her hair as his body pushed her further into the wall, the contact of their bodies meeting made her skin catch fire.

Her hands came from her sides and she found herself bringing them up on along the outside of his body, outlining his back and shoulders until they reached the nape of his neck and brought his head down closer, deepening the kiss. 

“ _Fuck_...” she heard him breath against her lips as his hands slid down and came to rest against her hips, his fingertips making small circular motions against the fabric of her trousers. “Could do so much to you ...” 

She moaned against his mouth and her lips parted to meet his tongue, the pair of them groaning into each other at the contact, their tongues sliding together in a delicious torment. 

  
She was utterly intoxicated by this feeling. On the sweet, criminal bliss that coursed through her veins. Because she knew she shouldn’t want it, shouldn’t want him.

The stale, cool air of the back alley hit them as Malfoy whispered a charm for silence and invisibility. It was quieter back there as the Friday night crowds were out of sight.

She knew what was going to happen next. She’d already given in ... she’d consented and now they really were on the edge. Jumping off at either end and meeting each other in the middle. 

_He_ needed this.

_She_ needed this.

It was _burning_ her ... and in this moment, she liked the flames.

He tore his mouth from hers and bent down to attack her neck and collarbone, laying hot kisses and little nips and bites all along the junction. He had her mewling into him, grasping his shoulders tight and squeezing her legs together as her core ached with a need to had never felt before. 

_**Intoxicating**_ ...

Her nails dug into his coat and her lips bent down to find his ear and nip at it, breathing him in and eliciting a breathy moan from him as he continued his assault on her neck.

  
“That’s right, Granger,” he breathed against her neck roughly. “Give me all your anger. Give me all that stubborn fucking pride I love so much. I want it all. Everything.”

They both wanted _this_ ; this passionate fight between their tongues and lips, this vicious spell he had put her under. In this moment she felt it would be her death. Would be the last thing she ever felt. 

“Can I?- “ he almost whimpered against her flesh as his hands came up from her hips to rest against her breasts lightly. He wasn’t planning on doing anything without her consent. 

She nodded, her head falling back. “ _Yesss_...”

  
She gasped and snapped her eyes open as she felt him wrench open her top. He stood there staring at the pink lace and the gentle swell of her breasts before pushing up her bra and exposing her tits to the air and him.

A startled cry exploded from her as a feral sound erupted from his mouth and he bent down to cover one of her pink, peaked buds with his lips.

Her head fell back against the wall with a thud ... this was what she needed. Not being given time to think, to assess or back out of anything. She needed to be led and be shown what she _needed_. What she _craved_ for.

This was what he could give her. 

“ _Malfoy_...” she groaned, pushing his face further into the soft swell of her breasts. She found herself rocking her pelvis into him, begging, searching, a pleading whimper seemed to escape from the back of her throat. 

“More.” He said with a growl as he lavished her breasts and brought her nipples to peaks with his teeth, tongue and fingers. “I need so much more.”

_God…this man._ This insanely, fucked up and indescribable man.

She felt his thigh nudging between her closed ones and let him in between them. His mouth was still performing delicious torture on her breasts and she yelped when she felt him nip at her bud.

She could feel him slipping in his control.

  
_“Hard and rough that first time ... waited too long to take my sweet time with you.”_

A moan escaped her mouth at the memory. 

_Yes_ ... _rough_ ... rough and _hard_ ...

His thigh came up and pressed against her centre. The feeling sent a jolt of electricity through her at the contact. She needed more ... she felt her hips start to gyrate against it, giving her the relief that she needed. 

Malfoy moaned at the movement and brought his head back up to hers, resting his forehead against her own as they both stood there panting breathlessly.

“If you don’t stop that then I’ll end up fucking you in this Alleyway, against this wall.” He panted against her lips, trying desperately to hold himself back. 

She mewled against him, biting her lip to stop herself. He caught her lips between his own teeth and bit down hard. They both moaned loudly at the contact. 

“Is that what you want, Granger?” he licked her lip and pushed his thigh further into her core, making her moan against him again. “Do you want it like this? Do you want to be fucked like this in a dark, dingy little Alleyway? Would that satisfy you?” 

His words were as dangerous as his actions. She was losing grip of reality; he was sending her spiralling into some sort of sub-space ... he was _surrounding_ her. He was _everywhere_.

_It burns_ .... 

_The chemicals burn ..._

She panted and clawed at his chest as she felt his hands inch lower and to the top of her pants. He stopped before going any further. 

“ _Tell me, Granger_.” His voice was husky with need and his eyes were hooded with want and need for her. “Tell me you want me to do this.” He needed to hear her. His resolve was slipping. He needed to hear her consent. He would never take her without her consent ... this was all on her now.

“ _Yes_ ,” she whimpered, giving in to the feeling completely as his movements grew more frantic at her consent and his hands continued into the hem of her underwear and then suddenly, they were –

  
“ _Oh- oh god, oh ... fuck, Malfoy..._ ” 

His fingers dipped down to rub her clit slowly and greedily before pushing two fingers into her. He groaned and rested his forehead back on hers. _Shit_ , her knew she was soaked. 

His fingers crooked inside her, tapping against a sensitive spot and she let out a long, breathy moan. His thumb came in to play with her clit again and she felt herself holding onto him for dear life as he used one of his hands to bring her thigh up and over his hip, letting his fingers sink into her further. 

“You’re so hot, Granger...” he was panting against her lips. “You feel so tight ... you’re going to _burn_ me...” 

She felt herself convulsing. His words and his movements stirring something inside of her. She was reaching ... it was so hot and there was a build-up of pressure and – 

He withdrew his fingers. She took in a sharp breath of air at the contact and felt dazed as she felt him removing both her coat and his. Gaining access to their bodies with less layers.

He was looking at her again. Looking right at her and making his next decision... or making her make it for him. 

“ _Granger_ ...” He put his lips to her ear and one of his hands came up to knead her breast. “If you want to back out – now is the time to say so... _tell me_.” 

A rush of blood shot through her body, making her feel like she was on fire. She was tingling as if her nerve endings were suddenly going to explode. He was giving her this... he was giving her the power for all of this.

And she knew. 

She knew exactly what she wanted in that moment, between the two of them.

Her hands reached out and they grabbed the back of his neck. She brought his ear right next to her lips and her tongue slipped out to lick his earlobe.

“ _Fuck me._ ” she breathed against it.

And he just about lost it. 

  
He spun her around to face the wall. Hermione gasped in surprise at the new position between them.

_Rough ... hard and rough ..._

She had wanted to look into his eyes as he slid inside of her, as he made her come. But this really didn’t feel like the situation for that. She braced her hands against the rough bricks, her small pants were breaking through the night air as she finally felt his length up against her backside. He was hard ... he was hard for her. 

" _Mutatio...”_

He’d transfigured her pants into a skirt. He obviously wasn’t planning on wasting anytime with formalities. Not that she minded ... she was aching. 

She heard the sound of his zipper open and the rustle of his pants as he worked to position himself. Hermione felt his hands lift up her newly formed skirt and she jumped when she felt her knickers being moved to the side.

She hissed through her teeth at the contact when he ran his cock suddenly up and down in her slickness from the back, pressing the head into her clit and then back down to her opening. She breathed a sigh, feeling herself clench at the feeling.

“Give in to the feeling, Granger ...” he rasped behind her, his own voice sounding thick with need as he continued to rub his cock along her outer lips. “...I’ll make you feel good, I promise ...” he pushed against her clit again and she gasped. “... _let go_ ...”

She hummed, bowing her head, sinking into the sensation of what he was doing to her.

She held her breath when he slid into her, slowly. He hissed as she moaned, savouring every inch as she expanded to his size slowly, squeezing his cock with her tight heat. He was stretching her in ways she had never imagined in this position. She felt her walls battling against him internally. 

_“Fuck._..” he hissed behind her. “You’re too tight – _I won’t last._ ’ 

She moaned, the vibrations of it causing him to move inside her, one long thrust that had them both groaning the others name.

They couldn’t get enough of each other’s moans; of the sounds they were making because of each other. She found that the effects of their mutual, verbal pleasure were causing Malfoy to deepen his thrusts, causing that dull ache inside of her to rise up again. 

He pumped into her, continuing his languid pace. She wanted this to last forever, but the risk of them getting caught out there where they were was real, so she felt him drive into her deeper, thrusting his hips harder. 

“ _Jesus_ ... you’re fucking _intoxicating_.” he groaned out as he hit that sweet spot inside of her.

  
“Yes,” she said on a moan, unable to stop herself from reacting to his words. “Like that. Please. Harder.” His thrusts became harsh and he was nearly bouncing her into the wall, her hands finding it hard to steady herself.

  
_God yes_...

“Stop talking like that or I’m gonna come.” He panted, his mouth at the back of her ear, breathing into her. “You’ll make me come really hard and deep inside you.”

She was so far gone. His words were just making her keen and throw her hips back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

  
He placed one hand on her hip, the other on her breast and started pinching and rolling her nipple as he pistoned his hips in and out at a punishing rhythm. The sounds of sex echoing off the hard surfaces that they were surrounded by. This only seemed to spur him on to take her harder.

Deeper.

Something felt like it was breaking inside of her. Something strong was rising. It was burning her from the inside out.

“ _I’m close_ …” she whispered, her voice croaking. “God, Malfoy, I’m so close.” She was whimpering and almost pleading him, her voice filling with the need for release.

He growled in her ear, bending her forward further against the wall and sliding in even deeper, all the way to the hilt of her. Her moans had turned into cries, her body beginning to shudder at the sensations.

His fingers slid down, rubbing her clit again. A few strokes against it was all it took. The heat was burning up now, suffocating her ... she couldn’t breathe ... he was consuming her ...

“ _Oh god ... fuck ... Malfoy! I’m-“_

And she suddenly erupted around him, milking his cock. Feeling the fire take hold of her and rush to her nerve endings.

_The tension in her bloodstream_ ... 

She gasped as the sensations overtook her, shaking from the orgasm that had set off a bomb inside of her. She could feel Malfoy slamming into her from behind, seeking his own release as her walls still fluttered around him. 

“ _Shit_ , Granger –“ she was still rocking her hips back into the sensations, pulling him over the edge with her. “ _Fuuuck_!”

  
She knew that stars had exploded behind his eyes, just like they had hers. His forehead fell onto her neck as he continued to fuck her through both of their orgasms. It was only when he slowed and finally stilled that he breathing evened out. 

He slid out of her slowly, and she could feel how his cum leaked down her thigh like a brand.

_His._

_Rough .... hard and rough ..._

Kissing her neck, he flipped her around to face him. He was breathing hard and his forehead was covered with sweat, but she didn’t care. He looked other-worldly. It suited him.

She didn’t think she’d have ever felt this light before. Nothing that they had done to each other could even remotely be seen as making love. It was far more passionate and wanting than that ... they were leaving a lasting impression on each other.

He was in her now. 

**_In her bloodstream_**. 

And it might dull in time, but it would never really leave ... it would just _burn_ ...

Until she got her next _hit_.

He captured her mouth in another fevered kiss, pressing her body against his.

“Get dressed, Granger...” he murmured against her, a smirk appearing on his lips. “Wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’d be fucked senseless in a pub alley now, would we?”

And then the wards were down, he cast her a sideways smirk and a nod of the head ...and he left her.

And she knew that wasn't the end. 

They were burning for each other now. Until their next hit.

__________________

To Be Continued...


End file.
